Grief Brings Love
by Sambart
Summary: Claire has done a terrible thing that she cannot forgive herself for and through her grief of a loved one, she confides in another that she loves.
1. I'm Sorry

Chapter One – I'm Sorry

_She stood there on the edge of the cliff, staring at the orange disc that was falling behind the hills. A tear escaped her eyes and her lips wriggled. She wrapped her arms around her shoulder, bent down and sat on the edge of the cliff. Stones ran off the edge and clicked the rocks below._

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whimpered over and over again, "I'm sorry."_

_The wind blew rapidly and threw her hair back. Over and over she whispered "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." _

_She slowly removed her hands from her shoulders. Her green eyes looked down at her hands._

_Red paint covered them and it had now printed onto her blue jacket. But this paint wasn't paint. Harder she stared and harder the tears pounded onto the floor as more and more fell from her heavy eyes._

"_I...killed him. I __killed__ him," she stammered. She took in a paining breath, "I killed him!" she whispered, "I'm so s-s-sorry."_

_She moved her legs from the edge and scrunched them up into a ball, her arms wrapping around her dirt mud jeans. She rocked back and forth slowly._

"_I...I," she stopped. She couldn't bring herself to say it._

"_Claire?" a voice came from behind her. A familiar voice, a voice she knew. Twisting her neck around, a figure stood in front of her. A tall, male figure with dark hair and deep meaningful eyes._

"_Help me," she pleaded, "help me."_

"_Claire," the figure said sympathetically as he knelt next to her. Clare peered up at him and shifted her body onto him. He wrapped his arms over her. Her face dug into his chest. Stroking her hair gently, she began to calm down. Soon she lifted her head up off his chest and rubbed her worn eyes._

"_How did you know I was here?" she questioned._

"_It doesn't matter, what matters is what happened," he replied. She pulled her lips together tightly and another tear fell from her emerald eyes._

"_I...I didn't mean to," she began, "I..."_

"_- its okay. Take your time," he replied with a smile. Her lips moved into a curve slight, okay," she whispered._


	2. Flashback

Chapter Two - Flashback

**(The bold is the flashback...)**

**"I told you to stay clear!" a man's voice roared as his fists beat down on the steal table.**

**"I'm sorry!" yelled back a short blonde, who was cuffed to a chair that lay behind the table.**

**"Sorry's not good enough! Thanks to you, your kind is in danger and there is nothing I can do it stop it anymore!" he shouted.**

**"How many times do I have to say it?" she said, "I'm sorry..."**

**"Well...sorry's not good enough, not anymore. You people, your friends are being killed as we speak, all because you tried to kill the president, got YOURSELF killed and came back to life on LIVE Television!"**

**"He was hurting us in those cells! He was torturing my friends, his own family! He's meant to be my father! I wasn't the only one wanting revenge you know-"**

**"Yes, but violence, killing and revenge does not solve anything –"**

**"-Then why are you always doing it to solve everything?!"**

**The room filled with silence. All that could be heard was the deep breaths coming from the man. The man looked at a blacked out window, nodded and made his way towards her. Taking some rusty keys out of his pocket, he unlocked the cuffs.**

**"You will be questioned more lately," he said in a rough voice. He made his way towards the door but as he did, Claire through the chair into the glass. Shattering, two men were revealed behind it. In shock, they ran out of a door that lay to the left of them. The man spun around and looked at her in shock. He moved his hands towards his gun holster and grabbed for his gun, but as he grabbed it Clare shoved him into a corner and it fell with a thud. She dived towards the gun and grabbed it. Spinning onto her back she pointed the gun towards the two men who were running out and shot four times are them, getting them in the arm. The man made a groan and began to get up. It was all too fast, she pointed the metal object at him and...BANG!**

**He collapsed to the floor, clutching his left breast. Her facial expression changed from angry to pure blank.**

**"...dad?" she yelled. Running towards him, she threw the gun to the ground and held him against the door.**

**"Dad...dad I'm so sorry," tears fell from her eyes, "...dad."**

**"G-go...B-burn this pl-place down. Leave. Destroy it...Claire, I am so pr-"**

**He body fell limp.**

**"Dad!"**

**Suddenly an alarm rang. Warning bell it must have been. Claire's head jolted around the room in search for a sign. She drew back her tears, looked at her dad.**

**"Destroy it..." he had said. She nodded in almost agreement and as she cried, she led him down and ran out of the door.**

"So I burnt the place down...set fire to it all. And I just stood outside it, watching it burn. I...I left him! I killed him! I killed him Peter!" she yelled as she gripped harder onto his beige jacket.

"Shh...It's over now," he whispered.

"But my father's dead! They both are! My whole family is! What am I to do now?" she cried hysterically. He began to rock her gently.

"Shh, it'll be okay. You still have me. I'm family. You still have me," he whispered over and over, "it's all going to be alright..."


	3. Fires and Skylight

Chapter Three – Fires and Skylight

_Peter picked her up and carried her. It was at least twenty minutes before he placed her next to a large tree._

"_You're far away now," he said as he looked down at her. She had fallen asleep. The crying had worn her out._

_Stars soon began to spring up in the sky and before long the only light around was the stars and a fire that Peter had taken time to light up. Clare stirred as the wind blew softly against her white skin. She squeezed her eyes together and slowly opened them. The light of the fire hit her first. She noticed a blanket had been put over her as well as Peter's jacket being used a pillow. Her hands pulled herself upright. She lifted them up to her face. The paint had gone._

"_I cleaned them for you. Thought it would've been a nice thing to do," said Peter as he looked over at her._

"_Yeah, it was a nice thing to do. Thanks," Clare replied. She stood up and limped her way over to the fire._

"_Dead leg?"_

"_Oo yes," she answered as she placed herself down next to him, "whatcha cooking?"_

" _Hmm...food," he answered sarcastically and nudging her slightly. She gave a small giggle and a smile, "you look nice when you smile," he winked back._

"_Thanks...is there enough for both of us?"_

"_More than enough actually, so you better eat it all up!"_

_They did not talk for a while, only taking glances at each other every now and again, until they were both led on a blanket staring at the stars._

"_You okay Clare?"_

"_As okay as I can be."_

"_Yeah but concern-"_

"_Please Peter. I don't wanna talk bout it right now," she gave him a hard look and he knew then, not to ask any more of it._

"_...That star. Is an awesome star..."_

"_What? How can a star be awesome? It's a star!"_

"_O I am sorry Miss Claire but it's not just a star to me,"_

"_What is it then?"_

"_It's...a star,"_

"_Ha see! Just a star! So nerr," she poked him in the side._

"_O and there's need for that," he asked poking her back. She giggled and poked him. He smiled back and moved his hands to her sides and began to tickle her. She fell back in laughter, "stop it! Stop it Peter! That's not funny!"_

"_Sounds like it is funny," he replied. He climbed on top of her and carried on. She soon got the strength to push him over and she sat on top of him. With the rest of her strength she pulled his hands away from her sides and pulled them above him. He gave up and they both giggled._

_The giggles soon went away. They were there. She on him, him not seeming to care. She let go of his hands and let him place them on her side and back. He pulled her in and she placed his lips on top of his. It happened several times, each kiss getting deeper and longer. His hands moved from her neck and slid off her jacket. Her hands flowed to his blue crinkled shirt. Each white button being pulled off slowly._

_Her shirt soon hit the floor and their hands in each other's jeans._

"_Grief can make you do things you'd never think would happen," whispered Claire, "and I don't regret it one bit."_


End file.
